Ghazal 391

خوش‌تر از فکر می و جام چه خواهد بودن؟
تا ببینم که سرانجام چه خواهد بودن

غم دل چند توان خورد؟ که ایام نماند
گو نه دل باش و نه ایام چه خواهد بودن؟

مرغ کم‌حوصله را گو غم خود خور که بر او
رحم آن کس که نهد دام چه خواهد بودن؟

باده خور غم مخور و پند مقلد منیوش
اعتبار سخن عام چه خواهد بودن؟

دست‌رنج تو همان به که شود صرف به کام
دانی آخر که به ناکام چه خواهد بودن؟

پیر میخانه همی‌خواند معمایی دوش
از خط جام، که فرجام چه خواهد بودن؟

بردم از ره دل حافظ به دف و چنگ و غزل
تا جزای من بدنام چه خواهد بودن

What could be more pleasant than the thought of wine and the cup?
Let me see what the end of it will be.

How long can one swallow the grief of the heart, when the days do not last?
Say there were neither heart nor days: what then would be?

Tell the bird of small spirit to grieve for itself,
for what mercy will there be from the one who sets the snare?

Drink wine, do not grieve, and do not listen to the advice of the imitator;
what weight will the words of the common run ever have?

It is best that what your own hands have earned be spent on your desire;
you know what will become of it in the end, whether you like it or not.

Last night the elder of the tavern was reading a riddle
from the line on the cup, about what the outcome will be.

I have led the heart of Hafez astray with tambourine, harp and ghazal;
let us see what the reward of one as ill-famed as I will be.